


An open book with a torn out page

by nanasekei



Series: Happy Steve Bingo Fills [28]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 05:53:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanasekei/pseuds/nanasekei
Summary: They both say the words differently.





	An open book with a torn out page

**Author's Note:**

> For my free square on Happy Steve Bingo, I choose "Love Confessions". Thanks to Sheron for the beta!

Most people wouldn’t call Tony a romantic.

Steve understands why. Though Tony is prone to big extravagant romantic gestures, he’s not big on saying how he feels. During sex, he babbles ( _God, Steve, baby, so good, you feel so fucking good, I missed you so much, God, it was never like this, fuck_ ), but he only says _I love you_ rarely. Steve’s heard it twice: The first time, when he blinked his eyes open after using the Infinity Gauntlet, and he felt Tony’s hands holding him and hugging him and Tony’s frantic voice whispering in his ears ( _Wake up, please, please, wake up, don’t die on me, not you, not you, please, I love you so much_ ); and the second time, when he gathered all his courage to hold Tony’s hand and tell him he didn’t just want to go back to the compound, he wanted them to be together, and he understood if Tony didn’t want that, but he needed to say it ( _of course I want, why the fuck wouldn’t I want, you’re such an idiot, I love you_ ).

Steve is also not inclined to throw the phrase around. Unlike Tony, when he says the words, they never slip out – it’s thought out, and he says it because he wants to say it, wants Tony to hear it. To him, those are serious words, words that he means for Tony and no one else. He says them in intimate moments, mostly – before he leaves for a mission, when Tony wakes up from a nightmare and clings to him, when it’s a boring Sunday night that’s made perfect because they’re together. For Steve, the words are big and heavy and important, and he never knows what to say in addition, doesn’t know how to express the way his heart swells at the sight of Tony, the easy smile that comes to his lips in the morning when he blinks awake and feels Tony's body next to him. Tony says so much, all the time. His mouth talks, but so do his eyes and hands and body, and the only thing Steve can find within himself to say is, _I love you,_ in its simplest form.

It’s like an unspoken agreement – how Tony only says it as if by accident, and Steve only says it like a statement of fact. They both know, and they know it won’t change, and they both accept it, every day. Steve kisses other words – babbled, frantic words - off Tony’s lips, worshipping every letter; Tony pulls him closer, buries his face in Steve’s neck and runs his hands over Steve’s shoulder, writing all the millions of words Steve can’t bring himself to say.

After all this time, they know, and they understand.

In a way, it feels like they’re asking each other, over and over: _Is this enough?_ And the answer is always the same, between kisses and touches and whispers, _yes, yes, yes._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos warm my heart.


End file.
